


Across The Geography

by fopsyche94



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, penpal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fopsyche94/pseuds/fopsyche94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geography was the biggest cockblock ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across The Geography

Yifan was an eight year old boy when he heard Do Kyungsoo’s voice for the first time. He forgot what the exact reason he made that international phone call. He probably did it to spike his mother, who was at that time a newly single parent who needed to settle in foreign place, bringing along his young son who couldn’t stop throwing tantrum and demanded that they fly back to Guangzhou. Yifan was a stupid and insensitive kid.

He still recalled, though, when he angrily punched random number on the poor telephone set. The first call connected him to a lady who told Yifan that the number he’s calling wasn’t available. Yifan set down his phone before picking it back up and make another call. The same lady kept on replying his call until the tenth one. This time someone who’s not a lady, and definitely not an adult, answered him.

“Hello?” A tiny little voice greeted him reluctantly in English. Yifan’s anger dissipated right after hearing that heavenly voice.

“Hello?”

“Who is this?” The cutesy voice asked.

“W-who is this?” Yifan inquired back, fumbling a little bit with language he hadn’t used to.

“This is Soo.”

“Well, this is Yifan.”

“Hello, Yifan.” The Chinese boy imagined another boy, maybe a tiny bit smaller than him, waving at him from the distance. He unconsciously waved at the wall of his living room.

“Where do you c-come from, Sue?”

“I am Soo not Sue,” Soo corrected him. “My grandpa said that my name is Do Kyungsoo but Daddy and Mommy always call me Soo.”

Yifan laughed because he shared the same experience with Kyungsoo. “My Ma always calls me Kevin although my name is Yifan.”

“How old is Yifan?”

“I am eight. How about you, Shoe?”

“My name is Soo!” Soo was probably pouting from the other line.

“Sorry, but your name is hard to pro-pronounce,” Yifan apologized. “How old are you—ugh—Soo?”

“Soo is five!”

“Where do you live, Soo?” Yifan asked.

“Manila!” Soo couldn’t stop screaming and Yifan found it cute instead of disturbing.

“Where is Manila? Is it far from Canada?”

“What is Canada?”

“It’s where I come from,” Yifan said. “Actually I come from Guangzhou but now I live in Vancouver, Canada.”

“Daddy said that Soo’s family comes from Goyang, South Korea,” Soo told him.

“So you’re an immigrant too, like me?” Yifan was excited.

“Im-im—What ‘imgrant’?” Soo replied confusedly.

They talked some more and by the time an hour had passed Yifan gathered that Soo liked Michaelangelo most among the other ninjas and he also loved McNuggets like him. Yifan pulled away a little bit from the phone when his mother entered the room, his previous anger at his mother had long forgotten.

“It’s eight already, Kevin. Who are you calling?” His mother questioned him as she plopped down the couch.

“It’s my new friend, Soo,” Yifan explained. He told Soo that his mother was sitting beside him when the younger asked.

“Oh, where does he live?” She smoothed down Yifan’s messy locks softly, seemingly excited at the prospect of her son making friends. “We can go visit this friend of yours sometimes.”

“He lives in Manila,” Yifan said proudly.

“Manila? MANILA!” His mother shrieked, pulling away the phone from Yifan’s hand then placed it back to its respective place. “Kevin Wu Yifan!”

“What?”

 

 

Yifan thanked God for the existence of redial button or else he wouldn’t be able to hear that angelic voice again. He also thanked his mother who—after hours of him giving fit—allowed him to make another call to this adorable little creature named Do Kyungsoo who lived in Manila but actually coming from Goyang, South Korea. That was a beginning of beautiful and long lasting friendship.

***

Kyungsoo was a merely five years old kid who was left alone in their rented house in Manila by his parents—only accompanied by his nanny who could speak nothing but Tagalog—when he answered Wu Yifan’s phone call. The older boy’s voice was pleasant and very crispy it reminded Kyungsoo of his favorite fried chicken. Yifan spoke way too funny like he wasn’t comfortable with the language rolling out his tongue.

The Korean boy had cried when Yifan suddenly disconnected the phone call. His nanny could do nothing but trying to soothe him with words he didn’t understand. They waited near the phone until miraculously Yifan called again hours later. He told Kyungsoo they could only talk to each other once a month, an hour and half for each call (Kyungsoo at that time still hadn’t grasped the concept of time), because international phone call was very expensive. Kyungsoo had running around the house after the call ended, triumphant about having a new friend.

He asked his father after his parents coming home whether he could call Yifan, his Canadian friend, regularly. His parents was surprised but finally agreed and they fell into an arrangement where Kyungsoo would call Yifan once in a month while Yifan would also do so in return. They also began to exchange gift for their birthdays (Kyungsoo had giggled giddily when he received his Yifan’s photograph alongside his sixth birthday present). Their happiness only expanded when they discovered the wonder of internet and began to interact more frequently through emails and then years later, SNS.

“You’re moving _again_?” Yifan emphasized the word again as if it’s hard for him to believe that during their five years of friendship Kyungsoo had relocated in between four different countries, and he had to move _yet again_.

“Uh-huh,” Kyungsoo mumbled, placing his last Power Rangers figurine inside the box. “It’s Morocco this time.”

“Morocco?!” Yifan yelled and Kyungsoo had to draw the phone away from his ear. “Isn’t that like, far far away in Africa?”

“Glad you take your geography lesson seriously.”

“But—but people in Africa don’t wear clothes.”

“Mom already said to me that they are actually very civilized.” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a blooper.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Yifan said. They fell into quietness for awhile before Yifan blurted out, “Hey, how far is Morocco from Canada?”

This was one of their things. Years ago after getting tired of hearing Kyungsoo’s incessant whines about the distance of his current whereabouts (either New Delhi or Jakarta) with Vancouver, Yifan had mailed him a small world map. The elder said he had the same one with him. Together, they’d measure the distance between them with their rulers.

“Four and quarter inches,” Kyungsoo sighed out, putting his ruler away.

“We’re only four and quarter inches apart.”

“Yeah.” He had always wished that he could fly to Yifan’s home as often as possible, preferably every day. But that’s nigh impossible. “How’s your school?” Kyungsoo tried to change the topic.

“Same old,” Yifan responded. “But this one girl asked me to sit with her at lunch after I helped her getting a book on the top shelf in the library.”

“ _Aw_ ,” Kyungsoo crooned. “Using your height advantage to get a girl.”

“Mom had said to use our potentials to the maximum,” Yifan replied cheekily. Kyungsoo knew he’s grinning far in his bedroom in Vancouver, donned his pajamas, ready for a good sleep. “Are you still as tiny as in the last photo you sent?”

“Of course not!” Kyungsoo snapped. Though he hadn’t grown an inch after that picture was taken. And he had stood on a small bench in that picture.

Yifan chuckled and then yawned. “Easy, tiger.”

Kyungsoo huffed.

***

Yifan eyed his lunch distastefully. He preferred his mother’s special dumpling than this lump that called itself hummus. But his mother was very busy with work now that she’d raised into a compromising position in her company. Moreover, bringing lunch from home was considered uncool for high schooler (Kyungsoo, who had been homeschooled throughout his life, laughed when Yifan explained this concept to him). Though that moment, Yifan was a point pass of caring about his image.

“Can I sit down here?” Yifan looked up to see a short Asian guy smiling down at him, a bit shyly.

“Yeah, sure.” Yifan gestured toward unoccupied seat beside him.

“I’m Joonmyun Kim,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Kevin Wu.”

“I know you, of course.” He unwrapped the aluminum foil covered package, revealing his lunch: sandwich. It looked more appetizing than his excuse of lunch. “Who wouldn’t know one of their school basketball athletes?”

“It isn’t something worth knowing of,” Yifan waved him off, eyes still glued to those delicious looking things in Joonmyun’s hands.

“Please, you’re an MVP candidate last y—” Joonmyun seemed to have caught Yifan eyeing his lunch like a predator. “Do you want some of these?” He offered his sandwich.

“Can I?” Yifan asked unabashedly.

“Sure,” Joonmyun chuckled. “I hope you like kimchi.”

“Kimchi?” Yifan stared at Joonmyun with interest. “Are you Korean?”

“To the bone.” Joonmyun nodded. “I just moved here two years ago from Seoul.”

“I have a friend who’s a Korean but he barely steps a foot on his home country.”

“He sounds like a special friend,” Joonmyun teased.

“He is. But not in that way!” Yifan quickly added when he realized what Joonmyun had meant. “He is—our friendship is special in its odd and unconventional way.”

“How so?”

Yifan smiled. “I’ve never met him even for once.”

 

 

That night Yifan sent Kyungsoo an email.

_Dear Soosoo,_

_I met a guy at lunch today. He’s Korean and thanks to him I tasted my first kimchi today. It’s a bit too sour for my liking but I guess it was alright. Joonmyun (the Korean guy) promised he’ll share his Korean lunch with me more often (he brings homemade lunch to school every day and nobody calls him loser, wow, I feel like I’m missing out a lot)._

_How’s the teaching thing going? Pass your students the biggest hug from this gangly and awkward Chinese-Canadian guy._

_When is our next phone call or video chat session? I miss your voice._

_Cheers,  
Yifan, The Gangly Guy._

***

“Why can’t I follow you guys to Zimbabwe?” Kyungsoo demanded, sulking. “Why do I have to stay in Korea with grandfather and grandmother?”

“Because Kyungsoo,” his mother said patiently, “your grandparents miss you so much. And you’ll get better education and more friends in Korea.”

“I have Yifan and the kids,” Kyungsoo said defensively. “Please, don’t exile me to Korea. Please, I beg you.”

“We don’t want to exile you!” His mother exclaimed, taken aback by Kyungsoo’s outburst. “Korea is your home, Kyungsoo. It’s our home.”

 

 

Kyungsoo sent Yifan a quick message before boarding to the plane that would send him to his so-called home.

_I don’t want to go to Korea!_

 

 

Yifan seemed to be busy enough and didn’t answer him for days (he remembered the guy had mentioned about finals). Kyungsoo sent his bestfriend another email. Much longer this time.

_To Yifan,_

_My first day here suck._

_My Korean is still very flimsy and people looking at me in weird way when I mention that I used to live in Ghana because my parents work in UN._

_My grandmother said I need to learn to become more Korean when she saw me eating Cocoa Puffs for breakfast. Hell, I often have kimchi for supper isn’t that Korean enough?_

_I don’t fit in here, Yifan. I want to go home._

_Not so cheery,_

_Gloomy Soo._

 

 

Yifan’s reply (three days later) threw Kyungsoo off balance.

_So where is home, Soo?_

_Where is your home?_

 

After that, Kyungsoo ignored all of Yifan’s attempts to contact him.

***

Yifan hadn’t expected another call from his younger phone-pal after the stupidity that was his email. He couldn’t stop cursing at himself since that spectacular day. He was stressed out because of finals and university admission. And added to that, his mother suddenly announced that she’s dating a Caucasian man whom (she said) Yifan would most likely love. The question he’d asked to Kyungsoo through that stupid email was actually his own reflected insecurity, like, he wasn’t sure where was his place on this earth. Whether he had one at all.

Joonmyun, his other bestfriend, had whipped him on the head numerous times and told him to beg for apology. But how could he grovel when Kyungsoo clearly refused any form of communication with him? Yifan was done. So done, like an overcooked steak.

So when this number with area code +82 appeared on the caller ID, Yifan almost broke a leg from jumping out of glee.

“Hello?” Yifan greeted, afraid but hopeful.

“Hey.” Came that familiar lovely voice.

“Soo—” Yifan heaved, longingly.

“I just call because my mom said it’s impolite not to thank someone who sent you a nice birthday gift,” Kyungsoo said. Yifan had made him an impressive dreamcatcher for Kyungsoo’s last birthday. Instead of adding ornamental beads and feather, Yifan wrote down the name of each country Kyungsoo had ever lived in on pieces of thin wood and hung them onto the willow hoop. It was a hell of work but Yifan was very proud of himself. “So, thank you for the heartfelt gift.”

Yifan waited but Kyungsoo didn’t say anything else. “That’s it?”

Kyungsoo sighed. “Okay, brat,” Yifan heard the other mutter under his breath. “I’m sorry for being a childish bastard and please can we be friends again because I kind of miss your voice and your stupid jokes? These past three months was hell for me. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“These months had been hell for me too,” Yifan admitted, embarrassed by the tear that going down the corner of his eye. “And what do you mean by ‘can we be friends again’? Because as far as I know we never stop being one. Also my jokes aren’t stupid; they are just too plebeian for your narrow horizon.” He smiled when his ear picked up Kyungsoo’s muffled laughter.

“I miss you,” Kyungsoo murmured. “I’m trying hard to become more Korean while we’re—well, now I eat my noodle with chopsticks.”

“That’s a nice improvement.” Yifan grinned from ear to ear.

“You can’t fathom how many times I nearly poke my eyeballs while learning, man, chopsticks are dangerous,” Kyungsoo said. “So, how’s life Yifan?”

Hearing his name spoken by Kyungsoo’s melodious voice sending breeze across his heart. “I’m attending McGill this fall. Please give the warmest greeting to this Engineering freshman.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo screamed excitedly. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yifan pretended to be nonchalant but his cheeks were searing hot. “Joonmyun is accepted in McGill too so at least I’ll have one friend there.”

“You’re a cool guy,” Kyungsoo stated matter of factly. “Everyone would want to befriend you.”

“I’m an ‘awkward on my own feet’ kind of guy.”

“You don’t sound like that through the phone call.”

“Because I’m talking to _you_ ,” Yifan deadpanned. “I think you bring me out of this shell called my body.”

“Is that a compliment I hear?” the younger asked teasingly.

“Maybe.”

Kyungsoo’s laugh reverberating up Yifan’s spine. It was a pleasant feeling. “Tell me more about your life.”

“Enough about me. How about you?”

“Just me struggling to make friends and catching up with this crazy curriculum.” Kyungsoo then hummed. “Tell me more about you! I sense that you’re not telling me something.”

“You always understand me, don’t you?” It was rhetorical.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo pestered.

Yifan pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. “My mom dates this man, that’s all.”

“Is that bothering you? The man isn’t nice to you?”

“Hans is very nice,” Yifan quickly said. “He brings delicious food every time he’s coming over. Hans also helps me with math; he’s a technician by the way. Overall, he’s very nice.”

“But?”

“But—” Yifan bit his bottom lip. “Do you realize that we’re growing up thinking that home is a house where our family lives? Ma is my only family and I’d always thought of home as her.”

“And?” Kyungsoo urged him to go on.

“I can feel that she’s getting serious with Hans, Soo. Not that I mind about it because I like him, but—” He tried to arrange the jumbled mess in his head into systematic coherency. “If they, if they are starting a new family together then where would I be Soo? Where is my home? Because it’s no longer in Guangzhou and when my mom becomes settled with Hans I don’t think Vancouver will be my home either. So where is it?”

Kyungsoo hummed. “You do realize that I have no answer for that because I don’t even know where my home is, don’t you? I’d always moved from one continent to another since I was born, I kind of lose sense of belonging.”

“That’s your definition of home? Somewhere you belong to?”

“Or someone. Or something. I don’t know.”

“I’d half-hoped that you’re going to throw in some cliché like ‘home is where the heart is’,” Yifan guffawed, feeling a bit lighter.

“I _almost_ did that,” Kyungsoo chuckled. “But we don’t need more cliché in our life.”

Yifan smiled gently at himself. “I really _really_ miss you, Do Kyungsoo.”

“I know. Don’t ever stop.”

***

Summer in Korea had always been Kyungsoo’s favorite. Warm weather replaced unforgiving cold of the other seasons. It reminded him of Morocco or Ghana or Nigeria and Kyungsoo nearly unable to suppress his yearning for his little students there. Kyungsoo wondered how their lives were, whether their English had improved after he left.

Kyungsoo brought his laptop outside, to his grandparents’ vast backyard. He signed in to his Skype account and dialed Yifan’s phone number.

“H’lo?”

“Hey!” Kyungsoo chirruped.

“The fuck, Soo?” Comes Yifan disgruntled reply. “It’s six fucking a.m. in Montreal.”

 _Oops_. “Um, early wakeup call?” Kyungsoo attempted to sound cute. “Oh come on, Fanfan. We haven’t been in touch for a while because I had series of unfortunate events.”

“You mean final term?”

“Final term is an unfortunate event.”

Yifan laughed hoarsely. “Okay, okay. Call me back in few minutes after I make a round trip to the bathroom.”

“Okay.”

Kyungsoo waited for twenty minutes (because he had no reason to rush), twiddling with the green grass underneath him and tilting his head up to feel summer breeze against the skin of his face. His grandmother had appeared and asked him what he’s doing outside at night like that. Kyungsoo said that he’s making a call to his best friend in Canada. The old woman just shook her head and went back inside.

“Done?” Kyungsoo asked after he’d connected to Yifan again. He could make out whistles of the wind from his speakers. “Are you outside?”

“Uh-huh,” Yifan mumbled. “Since you _kindly_ woke me up this early I thought I could use some bagels and coffee from this small bakery near my rez.”

“Oversleeping won’t do you any good, Yifan,” Kyungsoo chided jokingly. “Where are you now?”

“Chilling on an empty bench,” Yifan purred. “Waiting for you.”

Kyungsoo cackled at the lameness. “How’s university treating you lately?”

“Just the usual.” Kyungsoo heard Yifan slurping his coffee. “Binge drinking, public groping, and minor vandalism. Nothing much.”

“As expected from Yifan the party animal.”

“Ha-ha. You know very well that my favorite parties occur in the library with books about nano-carbon materials and geological structure of our mother earth as company,” Yifan said. “By the way, Ma’s due is in another three weeks and then we can finally greet my twin sisters.”

“Will you come back to Vancouver for that?” Kyungsoo asked, slowly laying his body on the grass.

“Ma expects me to do so and I—”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes while listening on Yifan. The rough texture of the grass itched him even through his T-Shirt, but he paid no heed toward it. Not when he could hear Yifan’s sound from the other line, recounting his experiences from these past weeks. Kyungsoo chortled and snorted and retorted throughout the story.

Even though there’s video chat where he could get an audiovisual image of Yifan, Kyungsoo still preferred a traditional voice call (not that they’d never had video chat before). He liked to picture Yifan’s mouth curled up into wide characteristic grin that showed most of his gums when he told him funny stories or when Kyungsoo delivered his killer jokes. He liked to imagine Yifan with his eyes dreamily staring at the empty space when talking to him, because that was what Kyungsoo did. The imagination was so vivid and beautiful it only fueled his longing for unforeseeable meeting with the guy. But still, Kyungsoo loved to leave some room for that imagery and he knew that Yifan too.

“Are you sleeping?” Yifan asked after his nonstop rants.

“No.” Kyungsoo sighed. “Is that bird’s chirping that I hear?”

“It is,” Yifan answered. “They are far too excited for this early morning.”

“I wish I was there,” Kyungsoo whispered to the night air. “We could be sharing bagels and hearing birds’ chirp together there.”

“It’s not there, Soo,” Yifan murmured back. “It’s ‘ _here’_.”

The answer wrapped Kyungsoo’s heart so nicely, like a warm fluffy blanket. Yes, he wholeheartedly agreed with the statement. Whenever they were talking to each other like this, they’re suddenly transported into a parallel space where just the two of them existed. Kyungsoo would turn his head and saw Yifan lying beside him on the scratchy grass, smiling back at him. Distance wasn’t a matter because—

“How far are you from me?” He heard Yifan asked.

“A mere five inches.”

***

Like any normal young man, Yifan had dated couples of times. He first dated Amber Liu, a Chinese girl who was even manlier than him, when he was in 10th grade. Their relationship only lasted for about two weeks (Yifan blamed it to his lousy kissing skill). He dated Joonmyun briefly in his senior year but it had been awkward at best for both parties so they decided to remain friends and were happier that way. He had some flings during his time at McGill but those weren’t worth mentioning.

Kyungsoo had a fair share of romance too in Korea. He once dated a guy whose name Yifan had already forgotten. Kyungsoo broke up with the guy after only three days with some funny excuse that ‘ _he’s too handsome_ ’. Then few months later Kyungsoo began to date a lanky kid from his class named Chanyeol and surprisingly the relationship lasted.

Sometimes he had to swallow the bitter taste on his tongue when Kyungsoo postponed their regular phone date to have a _real_ date with Chanyeol. But even from Canada, Yifan could sense that Kyungsoo was happy and so he endured. Didn’t mean he could stop being, _well_ , jealous from that.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol ended their relationship after high school graduation because Kyungsoo was going to continue his study in States and they saw no point in a long distance relationship.

He and Kyungsoo lived their life, got infatuated with other people, and dated. All the while carrying on their relationship throughout calls, chats, and emails. People might call their relationship as virtual but Yifan couldn’t imagine a relationship more _real_ than the one he shared with Kyungsoo. They weren’t only swapping stories—they shared laughter, aspirations, insecurities, and connection. They shared a world together.

Whenever he heard that mellifluous voice or reading those funny emails, Yifan believed he’s held captive.

 

 

“I love you, Soo,” Yifan had confessed one day.

He was lying on top of his bunk in the humble dormitory his company provided, staring at the dirty white ceiling with faraway look in his eyes. It had been months since the last time he called the younger because his job as an expediter in an oil company often brought him in the middle of nowhere, where there was no internet or decent signal to make a call. Those months had always been torturous.

Kyungsoo had laughed in reply. “I love you too, Yifan.”

“No. _I love you_.”

There was a long painful silence following that statement. Kyungsoo finally said in serene tone, “I know. Will you believe me if I say that I love you too?”

Yifan’s cheeks had never been this red since he accidentally tripped on his graduation robe in front of the dean of his faculty. Only this time with joy, instead of shame. “I think I always know that.”

“Good.” They lapsed into silence once again.

“Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo murmured. “Now what?”

Yifan shrugged because he didn’t have answer to that. “I don’t know either.”

“I think—” Kyungsoo hesitated. “I think we better stay like this, don’t you think?”

“I see.”

“Like I can’t even see us meeting up in the near future,” Kyungsoo continued. “It will be hard for us to build, y’know, _romance_. Can we share kiss from thousands of kilometers? We’ve never even gotten a real _handshake_. I—”

“I understand, Soo,” Yifan cut in because he sensed that Kyungsoo beginning to ramble. “It isn’t like I suggest us to start calling each other ‘boyfriend’. I agree, it will be too much hassle.” _And heartache_.

Yifan knew a sad smile was etched onto Kyungsoo’s full lips right now, because he wore the exact same one. “I love you.” Kyungsoo’s soft whisper was barely heard.

“Right back at you.”

Kyungsoo heaved. “We’re ‘ _here’_ together I guess that’s what’s important.”

There was nothing more correct than that pronouncement.

“How far?” He didn’t need to elaborate.

“From US to Nigeria?” There was some shuffling and Yifan guessed Kyungsoo must have retrieved his map. “Just four inches.”

***

The closest they’d ever been was when Kyungsoo visited his parents in Istanbul after college graduation and Yifan was somewhere in Algeria (Kyungsoo could never guess with the nature of Yifan’s job). Other than that rare moment—which they couldn’t utilize since Yifan was terribly busy—there were just sequence of misfortunes.

For example, when Kyungsoo had flew early to California in order to prepare for his college life and finally meet his Canadian sweetheart. Unexpectedly at the very same time, Yifan headed to Japan for an exchange program without telling Kyungsoo in prior because he wanted to surprise him. They could’ve met when Yifan graduated in Canada but Kyungsoo’s grandfather had passed away and the doe-eyed male had to fly back to Korea to attend the funeral. By the time Kyungsoo had returned to America, Yifan was already in Ireland to receive training in a mega oil company he’d been accepted into. Since then they’d never crossed path. Heck, they’d never even stood in the same continent for once.

 

 

“Wow, you’re getting tanner,” Kyungsoo commented as he scrolled down Yifan’s albums in Facebook. “Africa does really do it to you.”

“Do I look hot?” Yifan vamped.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyungsoo responded boredly, though admittedly Yifan _indeed_ looked hot. “Tanned and toned. Me likey.”

“I’m sure you must be drooling over there.” Yifan chortled. “I’ve been assigned to South America for the next term. Where are you heading after Cambodia?”

“Kazakhstan, I think.”

“Well, sucks.” Yifan sounded very disappointed. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but feeling the same.

“Maybe the next time,” he tried to assure though he wasn’t that certain himself. Perhaps he had long forgone the hope of meeting Yifan since those failed attempts had discouraged him.

Yifan just sighed deeply. “Anyway, my mom told me to thank you for the twins’ gifts. The little monsters love the plushies you sent.”

“Aw—” Kyungsoo cooed. He came across a picture where Yifan standing and grinning to the camera with Nina and Lulu clung to each of his long legs like cute koalas. Yifan’s little sisters were so adorable. And although Kyungsoo had never met them in persons, they held a special spot in his heart. “I’d send them more some other time.”

“You over-indulge them.” Yifan was probably rolling his eyes right now.

“I love them, I can’t help it.”

“How about their brother?”

“Hmph.” Kyungsoo pretended to think. “I’m not sure—”

“Brat!”

Kyungsoo cackled satisfiedly. “So how’s life? Been dating someone as _sexy_ as you?”

“As if I had the time with this amount of work,” Yifan grumbled. “How about you?”

“Dated a nice Thai man named Theeradeeth last week,” Kyungsoo said. “It didn’t go well.”

“What? What happened?”

“He was so nervous about our date he ended up flinging his chopsticks right to my face.” Kyungsoo grimaced when he recalled the incident. “Damn, I hate those things.”

It was Yifan’s turn to laugh. He sounded far too happy because Kyungsoo had failed a date.

“Are you done?” Kyungsoo snapped when Yifan didn’t stop after three minutes.

“Okay—okay—” Yifan panted, still chuckling.

“How’s the study plan going?” Kyungsoo asked. Yifan had told him couple times that he wished to pursue his master degree. But unfortunately with the responsibility he’s holding, it was nearly impossible for him to take a study leave.

“I hope I can go next year,” Yifan replied. “I’ll finish all my assigned projects in the next few months so I can finally apply for leave, and probably a scholarship if I’m lucky.”

“You can do it,” Kyungsoo cheered. “Because you’re Wu Yifan.”

“You always know how to lighten me up.”

“I know that’s my charm.”

“I heart you, Mon Petit.”

“I heart you too, Man From Another Continent.”

***

Yifan couldn’t contain himself from dialing Kyungsoo’s number and gloat once he get to the Quarantine and fell into the line to submit his filled form. Kyungsoo finally answered him in the fifth ring.

“Wassup?” Kyungsoo’s voice was a bit muted like he was standing in the middle of crowd.

“I finally return to civilization!” Yifan announced grandly.

“Huh?” Kyungsoo sounded confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m attending a conference at the city.” Yifan smiled as he looked around. “Can you guess which city is it?”

“Where?”

“Seoul!”

There was a short silence before Kyungsoo quietly saying, “You’re kidding me.”

Yifan sniggered. “Trust me I’m not,” he convinced. “I’m currently at Incheon International Airport.”

“Yifan—” Kyungsoo croaked out. “I just arrived in Korea. I’m now at Incheon too.”

 

 

The queue in Baggage Claim was hellishly long. Kyungsoo had to line up behind a group of very loud ahjummas. Kyungsoo barely got the chance to sleep in the flight from Astana and his head began to pound. In addition, one of the ahjumma had run over Kyungsoo’s foot with her heavy luggage. Kyungsoo wanted to scream at everyone’s mother at that very moment.

Kyungsoo was about to walk toward Entry Floor when his phone began to ring. He grumpily fished out his phone. His irritation quickly morphed into elation, though, when he saw Yifan’s name on the caller ID.

“Wassup?”

“I finally return to civilization!” Yifan exclaimed triumphantly.

“Huh?” Kyungsoo adjusted the hold on his suitcase, his eyebrows were drawn together. “What do you mean?”

“I’m attending conference at city,” Yifan said. “Can you guess which city is it?”

He had no idea. “Where?”

“Seoul!”

_What? Is it a joke?_

“You’re kidding me,” Kyungsoo whispered.

Yifan laughed. “Trust me, I’m not. I’m currently at Incheon International Airport.”

Kyungsoo’s vision blurred for tears start brimming in his eyes. _Is this for real?_ Kyungsoo thought. _Am I gonna wake up still thousand miles away from him?_

But it was real. As real as lives and chatters that filled the crowded airport. As real as Yifan’s voice against his ear. As real as the frantic beating of his heart. When Kyungsoo pinched himself it had hurt, which was a wonderful confirmation.

“Yifan,” Kyungsoo sobbed. “I just arrived in Korea. I’m now at Incheon too.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath and knew that Yifan was as stunned as he was.

“Soo, tell me that I’m not sleepwalking.”

Kyungsoo laughed but it only came out as choked sobs. “Where are you?” he inquired. “Yifan—”

“I’m, damn, where am I—” Yifan was having a hard time to compose himself. “I’m at the Quarantine.”

“I’m heading to Entry Floor.” Tears were flowing uncontrollably down his face by then. “Wait right there I’m going back.”

Kyungsoo tossed away his luggage and sprinted toward the inner part of arrival section—ignoring the call of the airport officers. Oxygen escaped his lungs from the way Kyungsoo running nonstop to his destination. His mind and lips kept chanting _Yifan Yifan Yifan_ , and that’s what driven him. Kyungsoo ran pass the mass of humans not caring that he headed to opposite direction. He could wait at the Entry Floor for Yifan to come out, but how was that possible? Yifan was just _there_.

He was already out of breath the moment he reached the place. But there’s no time to catch a rest because he needed to find Yifan. Kyungsoo looked around him in panic.

The dark-haired male brought his phone to his ear and shouted, “Where are you? I’m already here. I’m here, Yifan. I’m here. _I’m here_.”

A strong hand grasped his arm and turned him around. Suddenly he was face to face with a very tall figure. The stranger—no, _Yifan_ —held out his hand to Kyungsoo’s cheek.

“We’re here.”

 

 

When Kyungsoo told him to wait there Yifan couldn’t simply _stay_ there. He walked out from the line to the escalator that led downstairs but the guard blocked him.

“You need to show your stamped form, Sir,” the man said.

Yifan let out frustrated groan and backed away.

It was only minutes later when he spotted a small figure running up blindly against the escalator direction. The male passed him without a single glance. Yifan couldn’t make out the man’s face features clearly but he caught a whiff of his heavenly scent and sighed. The short male stopped running and looked around madly while Yifan just watched from the curb.

“—I’m here, Yifan.” Loud shout was heard from the phone in Yifan’s hand. That finally motioned his stricken body toward Kyungsoo. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Yifan reached out and turned the younger to face him. God, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Not even the wonderful scene of ancient pyramids or highlands could be compared to the beauty in front of his eyes.

“We’re here,” Yifan murmured the first thing appeared in his chaotic mind. His hand unconsciously moved to touch Kyungsoo’s rosy cheek.

“I think I’m going crazy,” Kyungsoo sobbed out, tears clinging to his long lashes.

This emitted a laugh of agreement from Yifan. He too thought he was nearing mindless at that moment. His thumb slowly caressed the soft skin. He was on cloud nine.

“So what do we do now?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I don’t know.” Yifan cupped Kyungsoo’s head in between his large hands. “Do you have something in your mind?”

Kyungsoo whimpered. “I think we need to fetch my luggage.”

 


End file.
